


Stationary

by Elsewhere



Category: The Mighty Boosh, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsewhere/pseuds/Elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for an anonymous Boosh fic meme for the prompt "Ianto Jones (Torchwood) and Howard meet in an office supply store and get to chatting about their mutual love for stationary." I'm just being awful and facetious, don't mind me. I love a good typo. It's all in fun. :D <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stationary

The back corner of Office World is where Howard goes when he wants to be still. Past the stacks of A4, into the realms of less-conventional paper sizes that don't fit in people's printers, that's the place to be. Everybody's so busy nowadays, they're always running around flapping in a panic talking about motherboards and printouts and iThings and eThings. If they'd only take a few more steps, down where the lights are dim and everything is still and silent, they'd feel so much better.

Wait, though. Howard falters halfway through a step because there's already somebody there.

"Hello?" he says uncertainly. He's never seen anybody risky enough to brave the daring shapes of the paper down this end of the aisle. This guy could be dangerous.

The man turns round to look at him. He's wearing a suit. Howard automatically checks his elbows for wear, but they're immaculate.

"Hello." He doesn't move again. He just stands there and breathes. Howard puts his hand in his pocket and clicks the writing-bit of his ballpoint pen up, ready to stab if the man turns out to be a psychopath, and hesitantly goes over to join him.

"Do... you come here often?"

"No."

"No. I've never seen anybody round here before."

"I needed to be still. I hope I'm not imposing."

"Not at all," Howard says, politely, even though he is. He unclicks his weapon. This man looks like some kind of office drone, secretary or something. He's clearly no threat. Not to a man of action like Howard T.J. Moon, no sir.

"I lost my friends," he goes on, very quietly. He's got dark, sad eyes and a twitch in his jaw where he's clenching it.

"Well... can I help you find them? I've lost my friend, too, but he's probably rolling around in a pile of cuddly toys in Toys R Us, he usually is."

"No, I've _lost_ my friends. They're gone. I wanted to be still. Jack doesn't understand, he's a man of action, but..."

He trails off and stares at the floor. Howard isn't sure what to say.

"I know a Jack," he says, "but he's a fox."

The bloke finally looks up, and when he smiles it lights him up like sunshine. "Yeah. Mine too."


End file.
